


It seems so very far

by Comedia



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Angst, I'm sorry I have no idea how to describe this, M/M, Pre-Slash-ish, depression mixed with apple cake, falling in love?, kind of, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comedia/pseuds/Comedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark doesn’t know Steve Rogers. They’re colleagues. If there was an earthquake, he’d probably give Steve a call and make sure he’s okay. But they’re not friends. They won’t have a drink once they’re done saving the world. It’s not that Tony doesn’t want to; it’s just that they don’t have that kind of relationship.</p><p>So he’s quite surprised when Steve shows up in his workshop in the middle of the night. A steaming cup of coffee is placed next to him, and he doesn’t have time to reach for it before Steve states his business.</p><p>“I need you to put me back in the ice.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It seems so very far

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea forever and tried to write this story so many times. Tonight it actually happened. I don't even know what this is. Here's hoping it's readable.

Tony Stark doesn’t know Steve Rogers. They’re colleagues. If there was an earthquake, he’d probably give Steve a call and make sure he’s okay. But they’re not friends. They won’t have a drink once they’re done saving the world. It’s not that Tony doesn’t want to; it’s just that they don’t have that kind of relationship.

So he’s quite surprised when Steve shows up in his workshop in the middle of the night. A steaming cup of coffee is placed next to him, and he doesn’t have time to reach for it before Steve states his business.

“I need you to put me back in the ice.”

He didn’t even know there were words that could make him forget about caffeine, but leave it to Steve to figure it out. Tony knows he’s staring, knows that he should say something, but really, how is he supposed to handle the situation? Take out his phone and show Steve how to google “depression” while being totally condescending about it? In all honesty, a hulked out Bruce could probably think of something appropriate to say right now – but not Tony. Tony is staring like this is the first time he’s actually met Steve, and thinking about it, perhaps it is.

“I’ll do some research, see what I can do.” He tries to sound mature about it, as if he actually knows what he’s doing. “Is it okay if I call it The Cube Project?”

Steve actually smiles at that, and it’s the most heartbreaking grimace Tony has ever seen. “Sure. And thank you, Tony.”

He’s not even sure how long he stays in the workshop that night. For some reason it feels like his world has been turned upside down – or perhaps thrown in a blender – and he has absolutely no idea how to handle the situation.

It’s not like his life changes completely from that moment on, but as the days go by he starts noticing the little things. Everything he missed when he simply thought of Steve as Captain America and not actual-human-being-that-might-not-feel-great-about-his-current-situation.

And their relationship changes. They don’t become besties or anything, but they’ll spend more time in close proximity to each other. Sometimes it’ll seem like a coincidence, but sometimes it’s definitely deliberate.

Tony will be sitting in hiw workshop, studying blueprints, drawing and re-drawing his new projects. Some days he's not even sure when he gets company, but sooner rather than later he will be brought out of his thoughts by a presence, and he will find Steve sitting by his side as if he’s always been there and always will. He’ll often sit hunched over a sketchbook, drawing anything from modern cars and portraits, to disturbing caricatures that a therapist probably should take a look at. But sometimes he's just there, drinking a cup of coffee or playing a colorful, all too sugary game on his phone.

They rarely talk, and most of the time Steve will disappear without a word after a couple of hours. Other days Tony will fall asleep while working and wake up draped in a blanket or hoodie, and while he keeps telling himself that he totally did it himself, he knows better. Steve is like a guardian angel that keeps him from getting a cold.

On rare occasions Steve brings hot chocolate, and Tony is starting to learn that these will be the days he talks. A steaming hot mug topped with whipped cream or marshmallows will be set down next to him, and Steve will say "I feel cold all the time. I know I'm not. I know it's in my head. But that doesn't stop me from freezing."

He will say; "Being Captain America means so much to me, but sometimes I doubt it. I doubt the name. I doubt the concept. I miss not having to question everything."

He will say; "Most people I used to know are dead, but that's not the worst part. The worst part is that some people are still alive, hell, my first love is alive, but I still haven't visited them."

Tony doesn't ask about Peggy or the Howling Commandos. But he offers Steve the rest of his chocolate and mutters something, hopefully inaudible, about how he should drink it because he deserves it.  
It's only after a couple of weeks that he actually starts paying attention to how Steve always prefers hot beverages. The way he always eats warm food, even on sunny days when a salad or gazpacho would be much more fitting. And once Tony notices this he can barely stand watching Steve eat.

Something hurts deep within when he thinks about Steve fearing the cold and longing for it at the same time. As if the only place for him in this world is within a block of ice.

And Tony doesn't know what to say, doesn’t understand _why_ , so he keeps working on the cube project, drawing haphazard schematics for something he hopes he never has to go through with.

It's not even that Steve has a hard time adapting to modern times. He studies behavior and pop culture with an impressive dedication, and he'll drop all kinds of references when in battle, like a modern day action hero.

When one day starts with a small scale bug invasion and ends with giant insects trampling buildings, Steve puts on a thin smile after the battle, saying "Well, that escalated quickly". Tony reacts by walking over to a brick wall and smashing his head against it. Technically it's not property damage - most people would pay to have a dent the shape of Iron Man's helmet on their building - it's not even a violent urge, he just feels helpless. The more time he spends with Steve the more he wants to make the other man smile, genuinely smile, but he doesn't know how to make that happen.

When he's done with the head smashing he finds the team staring at him. Muttering something about the suit malfunctioning – and instantly having Barton reply with mean laughter over the comms – he asks if anyone needs a ride back to the tower.

After a moment of hesitation Steve agrees, and the suit politely reminds Tony that his body is celebrating in all kinds of ways. Sometimes he wonders why he was so thorough with the sensors.

Walking over to Tony's side and putting a steady arm around his waist, Steve indicates he's ready to take off. Once they're in the air they open up a private comm link, and end up barely saying a word. Closing in on the tower Steve finally clears his throat, as if he's been thinking his words over for a long time.

"Is the suit okay? That looked pretty bad."

Tony sighs at first, because Steve's not being subtle at all, but perhaps he didn't mean to be. And as he considers the question more seriously he finds himself smiling slightly, because Steve’s worries about him, and not only in a professional way. He can't help but think that if Steve actually starts connecting with people, maybe he won't feel the need to escape this world. It's not an unselfish wish either; Tony has found himself enjoying the company in his workshop, and it's even harder for him to work on the cube project these days than ever before.

“Nothing to worry about. It's just something minor. I'm pretty sure I'll solve it in no time."

"Good." Steve lets go of him and lands gracefully on the roof of the building. Before going inside he gives a salute that might, just might, be an ironic gesture. Either way, Tony is happy, because he’s finally decided to do something about this whole ice thing.

The next time Steve shows up in the workshop, this time carrying two cups of tea, Tony is ready.

“How about we take this outside?”

“We what?” And Steve’s just standing there, looking slightly alarmed, because Tony being “ready” unfortunately didn’t mean he made sure to think things through before actually saying them.

“I mean, we never leave this place. So how about we go outside? And have coffee. Or tea. Or cupcakes. Bruce said there’s a nice bakery not far from here. Apparently they have calming pies.”

Steve actually huffs a laugh at that, slowly putting down the cups on a table nearby. “I guess that couldn’t hurt. Will you bring your work?”

“Of course, it’s all stored safely up here.” And Tony almost pokes his eye out when pointing at his head, because of course he does.

They walk in silence, and Tony always used to feel small next to Steve, but he doesn’t anymore. He’s not exactly sure what’s changed, because despite everything, it doesn’t feel like he’s had an epiphany. It doesn’t feel like his life is vastly different now compared to a few months ago. Normally he’d notice things like “I don’t feel insignificant when being close to Captain America anymore” but that revelation seems to have completely passed him by, probably because Steve isn’t a title or an icon anymore. He’s, well... he’s hard to define.

When reaching the bakery he turns to Steve, and asks him to find a nice table – because Tony can take care of the orders and he’s not being weird about it at all. Steve seems slightly perplexed by the request, but simply nods and walks away.

When he asks for two pieces of apple cake the cashier informs him that they usually serve it warm. He’s told that it’ll take a few seconds to heat it up if he’d just wait a moment, and he instantly declines. “You know what; I think I would like it cold.”

“Sir, if you’re in a hurry you don’t have to worry. The heating process is very quick.”

And Tony just smiles. “I’m not in a hurry. I just like my cake cold.”

The cashier gives him a bewildered expression, but hands him two plates of cake without questioning him further. He searches the place for Steve, and eventually finds him at a table by the window. He’s looking at each passerby with the utmost attention, as if the world wouldn’t be the same if a single one of them disappeared. For a moment Tony’s stuck staring at him in awe, because this is what heroes are made of.

Sitting down opposite Steve he hands him one of the plates, and he doesn’t have time to actually taste the cake before Steve looks up at him with a curious expression.

“I think these are cold, Tony.”

And Tony smiles and shrugs, as if this is something he eats every day.  “Yeah, that’s the way I like them. Trust me, it’s really good.”

As if to prove his point he takes a big bite from the cake, and while it’s good – seriously, the taste is sublime – the apples are cold and the dough is hardened and kind of moist. He ends up choking and coughing pathetically, stuck somewhere between trying to save face and not dying on the spot.

Steve stares at him for the longest time, his blue eyes wider than Tony’s ever seen. For a moment he seems to be beyond words, and then he awkwardly coughs too. “Are you okay?”

Tony nods, still covering his mouth with his hand, mostly to hide his embarrassment. At first he doesn’t understand the sound, because he’s never heard it like this before. Steve is laughing, carefree and brilliant, actually wiping tears from his eyes. When he notices Tony staring at him he tries to quiet down, but he keeps giggling for quite some time before being able to keep a straight face.

He takes a deep breath, and then runs a hand through his hair, looking a little ashamed. “Sorry. That was… not funny.”

Tony finds himself dumbstruck for several moments before remembering that he knows how to use words. “Know what, it was pretty funny. Bruce’s calming cakes tried to kill me.”

Steve huffs a small laugh, and then he stands up, reaching for Tony’s plate. “Want me to have them heated?”

“Please.” Steve rolls his eyes when Tony turns his puppy eyes on him, and then walks up to the cashier. As Tony watches him walk he notices Steve’s smile shift from intimate to professional, and there’s a tug in his heart when realizing that he did that. He got Steve to open up, to enjoy himself, even if only for a brief moment.

They’re quiet during the walk home, but the lack of conversation doesn’t bother Tony in the slightest. He’s comfortable like this now, close by Steve’s side. It doesn't feel like he's unable to reach Steve anymore, and Tony feels as though he could fly. Well, technically he can, but whatever.

Once they reach the tower Steve heads for the gym, smiling and waving goodbye when the elevator doors close. Tony, on the other hand, ends up in his office not being able to focus on anything, just happily spinning his chair while blasting music loud enough to have his employees evacuate the entire floor.

The following night Tony wakes up with a brilliant idea; the kind of schematics that makes him all kinds of stressed, because he knows that if he allows himself to go back to sleep – or get distracted – he’ll forget all about it in the morning. He doesn’t bother dressing properly, and only stops to put on jogging pants and a tank top, before hurrying down to his workshop.

He’s not paying attention to his surroundings, barely seeing the hallways he’s wandering through as his thoughts are nothing but calculations, but he snaps out of it immediately when he reaches the workshop. It’s not that he actually sees Steve immediately, but all the same he knows he’s there, as if his mere presence changes something about the room.

Looking around he finds Steve on the couch, staring at Tony’s laptop. His expression is distant, as if he’s barely aware of his surroundings. Not knowing what’s going on – and not feeling up for taking a guess either – Tony slumps down next to Steve, their legs barely touching as he relaxes against the pillows.

When Steve doesn’t react in the slightest Tony leans in closer to the laptop, actually reading through the list of files. It doesn’t take long for him to realize what’s missing. He leans back against the pillows again, turning his head simply to glance at Steve – observing his silhouette, looking for any change in his expression. “Did you just delete all my cube progress?”

Steve nods, and his posture changes. Instead of sitting rigid he leans back too, draping his arm across Tony’s shoulders. The touch is warm, safe. After a while of simply sitting together Steve holds him closer yet, and while his hands are steady his expression is uncertain. He looks completely lost.

“Glad you deleted it. I’ve tried the easy way myself. It’s not fun.” Tony tries to keep his voice encouraging as he leans in to the touch, and Steve is huge. His body heat may be off the charts, but that’s not it – he’s just warm. If there’s one word to describe Steve Rogers, it’s warm, and Tony hopes that he’ll one day be able to explain just how bright Steve is to him.

“So this would be the hard way, then?” Steve’s breath is close to his ear now, and this is the kind of thing Tony would probably refer to as nuzzling. Cuddling if he’s in a really cheesy mood. The brilliant idea – the sole reason for him rushing here – is completely forgotten, and he can’t bring himself to give a damn.

“The hard way is a very personal experience, and I'm not one to dictate anyone’s life. But yes. All things considered, I guess this would be the less easy solution.” He’s just murmuring now, barely able to hear himself ramble. Steve seems to have no problem hearing him though.

“In that case, I think I’m okay with it.” He hesitates, and Tony notices the steady breaths against his skin stop for a moment. “And really, Tony, thank you.”

There’s sincerity in his voice that almost makes Tony uncomfortable. No matter what he says it’ll seem meaningless in comparison, and so he says nothing at all. Instead he reaches for Steve’s hand, entwining their fingers and smiling to himself.

Feeling kind of drowsy he leans on Steve’s shoulder, having no problem falling asleep like this; knowing that he’ll wake to a world that is slightly different. A world where, perhaps, he’ll get to hear Steve laugh more often. Where they’ll sleep just like this, in each-other’s arms, and rise together in world where there’s no need for ice.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I write short things on [tumblr](http://comediakaidanovsky.tumblr.com/) as well (but mostly I just cry about fictional characters).


End file.
